Stay with Me Forever (Bayou Dreams Book 6)

by Farrah Rochon

  Panic filled Paxton’s senses. That animal shelter had been one of the biggest sources of comfort to her as a teenager. Just the thought of the animals being in harm’s way stole the breath from her lungs.

  She turned to Sawyer. “We have to go,” she said. “I have to see it for myself.”

  * * *

  Even though Sawyer braced himself for the rush of memories he knew would hit the moment he stepped through the doors of the animal shelter, he was still taken aback. It looked the same. It smelled the same. This place where he’d spent so much of his young life lusting over Paxton.

  When she wasn’t helping her mother at Harlon’s, Paxton was at this shelter, tending to mange-ridden dogs and flea-infested cats. She spent so many hours there after school and on the weekend, so, of course, Sawyer had used every excuse he could think of to be there, too.

  He’d considered signing up as a volunteer but thought it would be too obvious, so he’d gotten creative. He’d lied about collecting pet food donations and instead had used money from his allowance to buy it, simply to have an excuse to come to the shelter. He would ride around Gauthier looking for stray animals to rescue. Any excuse he could find.

  He still remembered the day he heard Malachi Walker complaining in the weight room about having to deal with the stink of the animal shelter because it’s where Shayla Kirkland, his assigned tutor, had to tutor him. It was like finding a golden ticket. Despite being a straight A student, Sawyer purposely failed two math tests so that coach would sign him up for tutoring.

  Three days a week for two months straight, Sawyer would come over to the animal shelter. While Shayla tutored him in mathematical equations that he could complete in his sleep, he’d watch Paxton out of the corner of his eye as she showered the affection he’d wanted from her onto helpless strays. The girl who was always so tough with people had a soft spot when it came to animals.

  Sawyer cringed when he thought back to his awkward attempts to get her to talk to him. He’d tried to ask about the different breeds, or engage her in conversation about types of vaccinations, but other than a quick hello, Paxton barely said a word to him.

  After the first couple of weeks he’d told himself to forget about her. He didn’t even have to snap his fingers to get a girl to notice him. He was the star quarterback of the football team. He always had enough dollars in his pocket for dinner and a movie on Saturday night. And even Sawyer could admit that when he looked in the mirror the guy staring back at him was pretty easy on the eyes. He had been a damn good catch back in high school.

  But none of those things—the looks, the money, the popularity—none of it had made a difference to Paxton. It wasn’t as if she played hard to get, either. It was like he’d been invisible to her, like he wasn’t even on her radar.

  She may have felt that way about him in high school, but Sawyer knew for a fact that she damn well saw him now. She could no longer ignore him.

  Actually, she could. Because, at the moment, all of her attention was focused on the animals. As soon as they entered the shelter she went straight for a pen that held a litter of puppies. Everything about her seemed to change in an instant. She went from being the hard-core professional back to the girl who used to spend hours here every week taking care of sick and frightened animals.

  Sawyer studied the soft look on her face as she got down on the floor in her skirt and cuddled with the puppies, taking turns holding each close to her chest.

  He propped his shoulder against the wall and casually slid his hands into his pockets. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “Where did the love of dogs come from?”

  Paxton didn’t so much as glance up at him. She had eyes only for the puppies.

  “I just always loved dogs,” she said with a shrug. “It used to drive Belinda crazy every time I would find a stray and bring it home. She used to say she had a hard enough time keeping me fed—she couldn’t keep every stray in Landreaux’s belly full, too. She’s the one who told me to work at the shelter.”

  Paxton shook her head as she lovingly petted the mutt’s thick fur. “There’s something about strays that calls to me,” she said. “They’re tough, resilient. They have to be in order to survive.” She looked up at him. “I guess they remind me of me and my mom.”

  Sawyer didn’t know what to say to that. He just continued to stare at her, pondering her statement.

  A couple of minutes later, the shelter’s director, Webster Detellier, came over to speak with them. His mother, Gina, ran the shelter back when they were in high school, and Webster would often be there with them after school. Sawyer’s jealousy over how well Paxton and Webster got along used to eat him up inside.

  It wasn’t until years later that Sawyer discovered his jealousy was unwarranted. He often ran into Webster and his partner, Glenn, every now and then on his evening jogs. They lived a couple of blocks down the street from him.

  Still, Sawyer couldn’t deny that seeing her in this setting again had drummed up a cadre of feelings that he hadn’t felt in a while. Longing. Inadequacy. That ridiculous adolescent hopefulness that he would figure out a way to win the girl. Sucking in a deep breath to steady himself against the onslaught of emotions rioting through him, Sawyer approached them.

  He greeted Webster, then asked, “Do you know if the shelter had ever had this type of flooding in the past?”

  “Sandalwood Drive slopes down toward the creek, so it may get standing water from time to time, but nothing like we got with Lucy,” Webster said. “Oh, by the way, thanks for the donation,” he told Sawyer.

  “You’re welcome,” Sawyer said.

  Paxton’s confused expression begged for an explanation. Before he could say anything, Webster did it for him.

  “His family’s foundation made a huge donation to the shelter last year. It helped to vaccinate every animal. We’re still purchasing food with the money from the donation.”

  Sawyer shrugged. “It’s the foundation that was started in my mother’s name. She had a soft spot for animals, but my dad was allergic so we couldn’t have any. I know my mom would approve of helping the shelter.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Paxton said, her eyes soft and full of admiration.

  As ridiculous as it seemed, her admiration annoyed him. Why did it take something like that for her to see him as someone worthy of her respect? Unlike his shenanigans with the pet food back when they were in high school, there were no ulterior motives to his actions these days. He gave out of a sense of responsibility, out of respect for his parents, who, despite their money, had raised him with a sense of humility few with their means would even think to do.

  It had always irritated him that Paxton couldn’t be bothered to see past his moneyed upbringing. If she had only taken the time to look, she would have realized that he had never lived a life of privilege. Sure, his father had built a company that grossed millions, but Earl Robertson had come from humble beginnings, something he’d never forgotten. He never allowed Sawyer to take anything for granted. And Sawyer was grateful for every lesson he’d been taught.

  That was why he did everything he could to live up to his parents’ expectations, even at the expense of his own happiness.

  Even to this day it made his stomach hurt to think about everything he’d sacrificed in order to fulfill his father’s final wish, marrying a girl he didn’t love. His marriage had been a mistake from the very beginning. He’d known it. Angelique, his ex-wife, had known it, as well. They’d both gone along with it in order to make their families happy, but they both knew the marriage was never going to last.

  Sawyer shook that thought out of his head.

  That murky water needed to remain where it had been since his divorce: under the bridge. He needed to focus on the things that really mattered. Mainly, figuring out a way to make the girl he’d always wanted see him as someone she could po
tentially share her life with.

  It wasn’t a pipe dream to contemplate it. They had chemistry. He refused to believe what had happened between them three years ago was a onetime thing. He’d felt something that night, and he knew Paxton had felt it, too. He needed her to actually believe in it.

  She giggled—actually giggled—when three of the puppies ganged up on her, climbing up her chest at the same time. Seeing her so carefree right now, it made him aware of just how few times he’d seen her this way. She’d always had a seriousness about her, even back when they were in high school.

  Sawyer could recall with startling clarity the day he’d fallen for her. It was during their sophomore year, when Paxton had discovered that a group of their classmates were planning a cruel practical joke on Mrs. Baker, their substitute science teacher. She had always quietly flown under the radar, never doing anything to stand out from the crowd.

  Until that day.

  She called out their classmates before they were able to play the joke. She had been brave enough to do something that Sawyer hadn’t had the courage to do for fear of losing cool points in front of his friends. She’d changed his way of thinking that day. Because of her bravery, Sawyer decided that his convictions, and not his social standing, would dictate how he conducted himself.

  That day in science class, he saw Paxton Jones as more than just the girl who hung out with Shayla. He’d finally taken notice of how beautiful she was underneath her unassuming clothes and reserved demeanor. She didn’t clamor for attention. She didn’t have to—at least as far as Sawyer was concerned.

  From that day forward he’d set out to win her approval.

  But he wanted more than just her approval. He wanted her to see him as more than just a jock or a spoiled rich boy. He wanted her to see him as someone who was worthy of her.

  He wanted her. Damn, did he want her.

  As he watched her with the animals, showering them all with love, allowing them to climb all over her as she sat on the floor in her pricey business skirt, Sawyer was pummeled with all the reasons he continued to want her. Underneath that no-nonsense facade, she had a softer side that he’d fallen in love with so long ago.

  He had to make this woman his. Had to. He’d waited too long for her, and he’d be damned if he let her get away this time.

  They still had a couple of other sites to visit before they returned to the office, but Sawyer couldn’t bring himself to break up her puppy love fest. He selfishly wanted to see this side of her for as long as he possibly could.

  After another half hour had passed, Paxton was finally able to tear herself away from the animals. She thanked Webster for his continued work with the shelter and, looking over her shoulder with every step she took, reluctantly walked out of the building.

  Sawyer could tell she was still shaken up. Knowing that the animals she’d cared about so much had been in danger seemed to be a shock to her system, but her demeanor changed back to the efficient and practical Paxton before he could offer her the comfort he desperately wanted to give.

  “See you back at the office?” she asked, her eyes darting over his shoulder to the shelter again.

  “Sure,” Sawyer said. He looked back at the shelter, then to her. “Are you okay, Pax?”

  She shook her head and gave him a false smile. “Of course. I’ll call the Jazzy Bean and order some lunch on the way.”

  “That sounds good,” Sawyer said.

  She nodded; then, with one last look at the shelter, she got in her car and drove away.

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, you okay over there?”

  Despite his subdued tone, Paxton jumped at the sound of Sawyer’s voice coming from just over her shoulder. She didn’t turn, but continued to stare out the window, watching the breeze blow gently through the arching branches of the oak trees that peppered Heritage Park.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “Just...thinking.” She took several steps back, realizing that she was crowding his work space. “Sorry for being in the way.”

  “No,” he said. “You can stay where you are. I’ll be at the conference table for the rest of the afternoon, anyway. I just needed these.”

  Paxton glanced over her shoulder to see him picking up the master materials list from his desk. A list that was based on maps that were likely unreliable and could lead to tragedy for her small hometown.

  She shut her eyes tight and fought back the truth she could no longer deny. Turning to Sawyer, she folded her arms across her chest and ran her hands along them.

  The smooth dark brown skin on his forehead creased as he frowned at her. “Are you sure you’re okay, Pax?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. It’s hard to be okay after what we saw today.”

  Sawyer set the binder back on his desk and took a couple of steps toward her. The concern in his gaze warmed her from the inside out, or maybe it was just her body’s reaction to the way his powerful, sinewy body moved, both purposeful and graceful.

  To say he was handsome seemed woefully inadequate. His compelling brown eyes, generous mouth and sharp chin belonged in a magazine spread.

  “It was a pretty heavy day,” Sawyer said.

  “Sobering,” Paxton said. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and soaked in the calming scene on the other side of the window before looking back at him. “Both Belinda and Shayla tried to describe how bad the flooding had been, but it took seeing it with my own eyes to truly understand.”

  “Same here,” Sawyer said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “It’s scary to think of how much worse it could have been.”

  Studying his strained expression, Paxton found the same worry that had been eating away at her since they left the animal shelter.

  “What if that worst-case scenario happens, Sawyer? And what if it isn’t just a tropical storm the next time? This town could be devastated.”

  “The possibility is there. If Gauthier is hit by a category three hurricane—hell, even a strong, slow-moving category two—the damage would be significant.”

  “Some people in those low-lying areas could lose everything,” Paxton whispered. “The animal shelter...” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

  She turned fully toward him.

  “You’re right about the maps,” Paxton said. It was time she owned up to her mistake. “You tried to tell me, but I’m stubborn. And I don’t like anyone proving me wrong. But I’m also a realist, and it cannot be ignored. Not after what I saw today.”

  Sawyer’s eyes shut. He blew out a relieved sigh, his shoulders going limp.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “I’m planning to contact my supervisor at Bolt-Myer this afternoon. I’ll tell him your theory, along with the evidence we saw today. It’s going to set us back, both time-wise and with the budget, but we need to get those surveyors here before we move forward. We need to figure out what went wrong with Tropical Storm Lucy, because something definitely went wrong.”

  “I can be in on the call if you want me to explain it,” he offered.

  Paxton held up her hand. “I want to talk to him first. If I need you to explain the mechanics in more detail, I’ll call you in.” She released another sober breath and looked across the room at her desk. Her cell phone seemed so innocuous, but the call she needed to make could determine the course of her career with Bolt-Myer. She had so much riding on this project, but Gauthier’s safety trumped it all.

  “I should call him now,” Paxton said. “The sooner we get the ball rolling, the better. I just... I need a breather.”

  Sawyer gestured toward the window with his chin. “It’s a pretty day out there. How about a walk?”

  Paxton returned her gaze to the inviting view, her spirits lifting at just the thought. She looked back at him to find him looking at her w
ith expectation.

  He’d been such a surprise today. Actually, he’d been a surprise, period. From his willingness to set aside petty arguments and work together over this past week and a half to his driving out to Landreaux to support Belinda’s grand opening, to learning about his huge donation to the animal shelter.

  And that he possibly used to visit it back when they were kids just to see her.

  Something warm and significant began to swirl in her belly. It had taken a while to accept it, but Paxton was starting to believe that she’d read Sawyer Robertson all wrong.

  She wanted to be wrong about him. Because if he wasn’t the pampered rich playboy she’d made him out to be in her mind, and was instead the warmhearted, generous man she’d witnessed since they began this project, it could change...everything.

  A smile curled up the edge of her mouth.

  “An afternoon stroll around Heritage Park is exactly what I need. But only if you join me.”

  Sawyer’s smile matched hers. “That was never a question.”

  Paxton left a note on Carmen’s desk, letting her know where they would be in case anyone came to the law practice looking for them. Even though they had yet to be visited by anyone from the community regarding the proposed flood protection system, being available to answer questions was one of their duties during this phase of the project.

  She locked up using the key Matt had given them, and she and Sawyer then walked the short distance along the brick sidewalk to Heritage Park.

  They entered underneath the arching wrought iron entranceway. Fragrant vines of coral honeysuckle twined within the sign’s intricate lacework. The park, like most of the downtown area, had experienced a resurgence in the past few years. Various clubs and civic organizations took turns maintaining the grounds, and every six months there was a community-wide cleanup day, where everyone pitched in to do their part in keeping downtown Gauthier beautiful.